The Road to Rio
by SniperCT
Summary: While on a road trip to the Rio Olympics, car troubles and a storm force everyone to shack up in a hotel. Problem is, there's only one bed per room.


_**(based on a prompt by Asynca)**_

"Well this is awkward, dontcha think?" Lena folded her arms, leaning against the wall and staring at the woman across the room.

"Non, it is not awkward at all." Amelie's movements were smooth, as graceful as a cat's as she stepped around the singular solitary bed and approached Lena. She pressed her finger into Lena's forehead, "But it is _entirely_ your fault."

"And just _how_ is it my fault?" She swatted at Amelie's hand, glaring up at the other woman, who seemed to be unaffected by her stinkeye.

"It is a shortcut, you said." Amelie dropped her hand to her side, tilting her head and raising both of her eyebrows. "It would be _fun_ you said. A road trip, so that we could bond again." Who came up with the idea of driving from Los Angeles to Rio de Janeiro? Though Amelie was questioning which was worse; coming up with the idea, or going along with it.

"I'm not responsible for car troubles." Lena blew some hair out of her eyes. "The others aren't as mad."

"Reinhardt considers it character building. He is not exactly the best person to ask." After six days stuck in the same car as Lena Oxton, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, Amelie wanted to murder somebody. Four somebodies. At least one particular somebody that she was stuck in a hotel room with. If not murder, then something else. Some she'd felt she was owed since London.

"We're not gonna miss the opening ceremony, I promise."

"We have not even made it to Brazil yet."

"But we're almost there! We'll have a few days to rest and get back into a training routine. It'll be fine!"

Amelie walked to the window, opening the curtains to show Lena the massive downpour outside. Lightning flashed, the timing making her action even more dramatic. "We are stuck here for the night. Possibly two. How are we going to make it in time?"

"I got a gut feeling, that's all."

"Mon dieu." Amelie pinched the bridge of her nose. She swept the curtains shut, and strode past Lena to the bathroom. "I am going to shower." She glanced at Lena from under her eyelashes as she passed, and was rewarded with flushed skin and a suddenly awkward stance. Good.

The warm water helped loosen some of her sore muscles. The car, at least, was roomy. When she wasn't driving, she spent her time in the back seat with as much distance between her and Wilhelm as possible. Reyes and Morrison weren't so bad. One of Amelie's few actual friends, Reyes was a brooder, and usually quiet, but Wilhelm always managed to get him to talk. She wasn't sure how the German did it, and even she fell victim to it on more than one occasion. Jack was….Jack. He'd lost a lot of his humor in recent years, but Amelie didn't know him well enough to really care about it. He talked even less than Gabriel.

It actually wasn't as bad as she made it out to be. She'd never admit it, but she'd enjoyed the parts where Lena napped against her. But then Lena had been an attractive thorn in her side for nearly eight years.

Amelie discovered Lena reclined in a chair as she exited the shower, a towel wrapped tightly around her body. Lena's eyes about bulged out of their sockets, but she recovered. Mostly.

"This is your last games, innit?"

Amelie stiffened, then forced herself to relax. "Oui. I will no longer compete after these games."

"Why is that?" Lena's eyes roamed up Amelie's legs, noting the scars below her right knee. Amelie had taken a bad fall at Lena's first Olympics in Beijing. But she'd returned four years later, and four years later still. She was stubborn, and Lena couldn't imagine going to Tokyo in four years and not seeing Amelie there.

Thunder boomed outside, and Lena glanced at the ceiling as the lights flickered.

"I am getting old, Lena." Amelie sank onto the edge of the bed, crossing her ankles and studying the sprinter. Lena was the second fastest woman alive, and third fastest of all time, only a fraction of a second behind Carmelita Jeter. Lena also held the record for the one-hundred yard hurdles. She was fast, but she was still in her prime. Amelie was...jealous.

"You're only thirty-three." Lena straightened up. "Is it your injury, maybe?"

"Non." Amelie's smile held just the faintest trace of bitterness. "Gymnasts do not age like wine. The average on your team is only nineteen. We get older. Less flexible. Years of brutalizing our bones and our muscles takes it's toll. It is very rare to compete above twenty-five." That didn't mean there were none, but they rarely medaled. Amelie was only on the French team because she had worked harder than she ever had for the spot. She would ruin her body before she gave up, at this point.

"Ya got bronze last time," Lena pointed out. "And you've got two golds. I'm sure you're plenty flexible." And lord did she want to know just how much.

"Two golds in four Olympics," Amelie reminded her. "But I _suppose_ that is still something to be proud of."

Lena bounded to her feet, and skidded in front of Amelie. She placed her hands on the other woman's shoulders. "Ya can do it, Amelie! If you're gonna retire after Rio, then ya gotta retire on a high note!"

Amelie looked up at her, ever amazed at the sheer amount of energy that Lena possessed, and suddenly fighting the temptation to kiss her. The lights flickered again, and snapped her out of it. "The pep talk is appreciated. But we should sleep."

"Oh. Right." Lena let go, and gestured towards the chair. "I'll just… take the chair. Its real comfy!"

"Non." With a roll of her eyes, Amelie stood. "There is room enough for both of us, and I do not want to risk your chance at the world record." She unwrapped her towel and tossed it at Lena's head. It smacked her in the face.

She pulled the towel down, suddenly a little dizzy from the scent of whatever body wash Amelie had used. Amelie had already crawled under the covers. Lena sighed heavily, then turned off the light and pulled her trousers off before crawling in with Amelie. This was not how she ever imagined getting into bed with Amelie.

Amelie rolled to face her, an arm threading over her waist, and Lena froze.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nah…" Lena rolled onto her side. She couldn't see Amelie's face in the darkness, but she could hear her breathing. Feel the heat of it on her face. She rubbed a hand down Amelie's back. Oh. Bugger.

"Amelie?"

"Mm?"

"Are ya not wearing any knickers?"

"Mm."

A full minute passed as Lena tried to process this information. "Is this revenge for all the singing?"

A chuckle rose from Amelie's throat, and she propped herself up on an elbow. "Do you think it is?" She trailed her fingers down Lena's cheek, then threaded them into her hair. "Do you remember the pub, in London?"

"Uh. I might need ya to narrow that down a wee bit," Lena whispered. "There are a lotta pubs in London that I gotta tab at."

"The Crown." There was a plaintive note to Amelie's voice. A sadness that she could no longer disguise. "After the games. It was the first year, after Gerard passed away."

Lena nodded. She'd known Gerard as well as she'd known Amelie after Beijing, and his sudden death had hit their circle really hard. "I remember. He would have loved to watch you that year."

"Oui…" Amelie's thumb stroked at Lena's cheekbone. "Outside of the arena, that was the first time that I felt like myself again. Being with you in that pub."

"I was pretty well plastered I think." Lena swallowed, wondering where this was going. "I don't remember too much after that last shot. I remember us looking up at the moon though."

"We went up to the rooftops over King's Row. We were both definitely on our way to _beurré_." Amelie's fingers started to stroke and massage into the back of Lena's scalp. When the lightning outside flashed again, it cast her face in harsh shadows. "I told you things. Things I've never told anyone else."

Eyes drifting closed, Lena leaned her head back into Amelie's hand, biting her lip to prevent a groan. "Ya told me 'bout the accident. Issat it?" Her memories of that night were spotty at best, but she did remember parts of that conversation. "Wasn't your fault, Amelie…"

Tears pricked at Amelie's eyes. She hadn't expected Lena to remember. Half the reason she'd even opened up that night was because she didn't think either of them would have remembered. But she had. And apparently, so had Lena. The words spilled out in rapid-fire French, " _It is my fault that he is dead but that is not why I_." Amelie cut herself off, returning to English. "That is not my point. What else do you remember?"

"Uhm…" Lena snapped back to herself a little as Amelie's fingers stilled in her hair. It was a struggle to remember, so much of that evening was a blank slate. The bits of conversation she could recover and fill in the pieces here and there. "We stopped talking after awhile I think. I don't really remember what else we talked about it. Are ya okay? Ya don't sound okay, Amelie."

Lena's hand ran up Amelie's spin, before settling between her shoulder blades and rubbing in what she presumed was reassuring circles. All the combination of that action did was send shivers all the way down to her toes. Amelie knew the effect she could sometimes have on Lena, but doubt Lena truly understood the effect she had on her. "Maybe...this will remind you."

Amelie's fingers tightened in Lena's hair again, and she pressed their lips together, holding her breath until Lena started to kiss her back. The touch lingered, Lena's hand having stopped in its circle as the woman all but clung to Amelie for dear life. Amelie didn't give her much of a chance to escape, her lips brushing against Lena's as she murmured, "That is much better when sober."

Sitting bolt upright, Lena scrambled to turn on the light. She turned back to Amelie. "Wait wait we kissed?"

"Snogged would be a better way to describe it." Amelie sat up, the sheet sliding down her torso. To Lena's credit she only stared a brief moment before looking away. "But truthfully I do not remember much more than that myself."

This really did have to be revenge for the singing. Lena steadied her breathing. Strong fingers forced her head to turn back towards Amelie, and she put her hand over Amelie's. "How come ya never said anything before?"

"I wanted you to remember first." It sounded stupid to Amelie's ears, especially now. She shrugged, somehow making the motion look elegant and otherworldly to Lena's eyes. Amelie's lips quirked at the corners. "I think I have grown impatient. Or maybe when you were singing, I kept thinking of ways to silence you."

That rewarded her with a deep flush on Lena's skin, and she sat up fully, hand still on Lena's face. "I guess you could say that our car troubles were a fortunate coincidence." At least, that was her hope.

"You're real subtle like," Lena complained. "Some of us need to be smacked with a clue-by-four!"

"Are you smacked?"

"No. Yes. No." Lena eyed Amelie coyly. "Maybe I need another hit."

Amelie struck quickly, pushing Lena onto her back, and pinning her beneath her hands and thighs. "Is this hard enough." She stared at the mess that was Lena's hair, her flushed cheeks and the rapid breaths. "...Tu es très jolie."

"Mm'not pretty…You're pretty." Lena was effectively held down at her shoulders, but her hands could still reach Amelie's legs.

" _Ferme ta bouche_ ," Amelie leaned down to shut Lena up.

After several hours, the storm finally cleared. Unable to sleep, Amelie slipped out of bed. She was sore again, but it was the sort of sore that was very much worth it.

Someone banged on the door, and grabbing a robe, she went to answer it. "Lena is sleeping, what do you want?"

Reinhardt pushed his way in, not seeming to notice Amelie's state, or the fact that Lena's favorite shirt was hanging from the lamp. Instead, he sank into the chair that Lena had originally planned to sleep in. "Reyes and Morrison do not know the meaning of keeping it quiet, and I just want to sleep. Is that too much to ask?" He propped his feet up on the table, and leaned back in the chair. "Just a few hours, that is all I want…"

Lena had pushed herself up on both of her elbows, and blearily looked between Amelie and Reinhardt. "Two hours sooner and I think I woulda killed ya."

"Gabriel and Jack?" Amelie pinched the bridge of her nose, but couldn't help a soft laugh. "Perfect. Less questions for us."

"Do ya wanna keep me a secret?" Lena pulled Amelie into her arms when the woman got back into bed.

"Non. But I would like to avoid awkward teasing. Non, instead, we can tease _them_."

"Beautiful, bendy _and_ smart." Lena tapped Amelie on the nose. "Promise me something,luv."

"Mm. What's that?"

"Don't try to kill yourself to get a medal."

"What happened to retiring on a high note?"

"A bad injury isn't exactly a high note."

Amelie narrowed her eyes. "What brings this on?"

"Nothing. Except ya got a little creaky earlier."

"Creaky?! I am going to wipe that grin from your face you little…"

"Great," Reinhardt muttered. "First Reyes goes at it like rabbit with Morrison. Now LaCroix and Lena are making googly eyes. I am never going to get to sleep."

He got to his feet, waving his arms like the whole world was against him. "I am going to sleep in the car!"

"Aww, Reinhardt…"

Holding his hand up at Lena, he declared. "No.. no, it is all right. Just try not to break each other, you have _medals_ to win! And if you break each other? No medals. That would be a tragedy."

And with that, he stepped outside, closing the door behind him.


End file.
